Chapter 3E

We got into bed. She lay with her head in my lap, sucking me languidly until the increasingly familiar twinge in my cock sent a petite droplet of shiny stuff to my tip.

"I can taste it," she said, tentatively slurping as she raised her mouth off me. "I taste more of you. Are you starting to cum?

"Well... I guess..."

"Poor baby. You still don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

I told her I wasn't quite sure, and she explained again about male orgasms and ejaculation. This time around, Martha Jane's description about the complications of orgasm were more involved and colorful. I asked her what it was that made the male feel so good that he would squirt his sperm into the woman; Martha Jane answered that she didn't know *exactly* what it felt like for a male when he moved inside the woman, but she knew that it must feel very similar to what I felt when she sucked me. That gave me a general idea, but I was amazed to find out even more about babies and how much of the truth had been concealed by the adults around me.

I asked, "Does it squirt a lot, or real hard? You know, like when I go to the bathroom?"

She gave a little laugh and said, "Lord, you do know how to ask the really tough questions, don't you?" She said I would squirt about a teaspoon or a tablespoon or so--at least, that's what the books said. And it was nothing like going to the bathroom, but more like a small, toy water gun that was running low on water. I scrunched up my face in confusion about that, and then I asked her if she'd ever seen a man ejaculate. She said, "No, hon."

I asked, "Well, wouldn't it be uncomfortable if I got real hard and squirted all that cum inside you?"

She said, "No, it's supposed to feel really good for me, too."

I thought about that for a moment and told her, "You mean, when I squirt in you, it makes you cum too?"

"Well... sometimes. Not all the time. But I think it would feel really good to cum at the same time you do. I don't know. They say it's very difficult to time it right so that both people cum together, but it does happen."

I said, "When I'm able to cum, I'll wait for you so we can cum together."

She laughed hard, her head going back, and as she settled down her eyes looked sweetly into mine. "Speedy, you're so ambitious!"

I asked innocently, "Why's that so funny?"

"Oh, sweetheart, it's not funny. It's very nice. Really it is, it's a very nice thought."

"But what did I say? Did I say it wrong?"

She grasped my hands in hers and said quickly. "No, no, no, honey, no! Not at all. Really. You have no idea how sweet it was for you to say that. You see, it's... well, most men don't care if the woman cums or not, much less that they climax together. It's just that--well, it's not that easy to do. Really."

I knew from Martha Jane's lessons that a guy's penis got small after he came. I told her, "I'd always make sure you cum first, so I can stay hard for you and make it feel really good."

She held the palm of one hand on my cheek and said warmly, "You are going to be one wonderful lover. And when you cum inside me, I'll make it really good for you, too. I'd make it feel very, very good for you, so you'd give me lots of cum. I'd love feeling you cum in me."

Martha Jane told me how women kept from getting pregnant by making the guy use a rubber (she never used the word condom or contraceptive. She told me she didn't like those words because they were impersonal. "Rubber" sounded more degrading, and that's the word she liked to use). I remarked that if I ever had a real orgasm, we'd have to use a rubber on me.

She frowned and said, resolutely, "No. I'd never make you use a rubber."

"But wouldn't you get in trouble?"

She didn't answer me. She was stroking my cock, now limp after so much prolonged stimulation. She looked at me, and then she looked out the dark window.

I asked, "what's the matter?"

She said simply, "Wait a minute, hon," and she looked out the window and seemed to be thinking deeply about it. After a while she sat up and smoothed back some stray hair from her face and scowled. "No. No rubbers."

I looked puzzled.

"Because..." she continued, pulling a bobby pin from her hair and holding it in her teeth while she bundled back her hair. I looked at her long, slim arms and the way her nice breasts rose and sloped gently into the pale buds of her nipples as she reached behind her head. "Because..." she went on, securing the bundle behind her with the bobby pin. Then she abruptly concluded, "Because."

The look on my face told her that I knew she hadn't answered me, but I also knew by her voice that she didn't want to talk about it. She lay beside me and I put my head on her breast and we held each other, and for a while she simply stroked my hair and neck and reached down to chew my ear. We grew quiet and listened to the squeals and giggles of the kids outside. After a while she licked her hand and wet my cock with it and fondled me while I sucked her nipples.

With her face resting on my head as I suckled her, I could feel her smiling. She asked sweetly, "You really like sucking my titties, don't you?"

"Yes. You feel so good in my mouth."

"I'm glad you like it. It feels good to me too. It's so loving. I like holding you like this and letting you suck. I like it because I like the way you enjoy it."

"It's fun," I joked, moving to another nipple.

She laughed. "You funny boy. Yes, it's fun, it really is fun, isn't it? I don't know... I guess I wouldn't do this if you were my same age." For a long time she said nothing, but stroked my cock playfully and watched me enjoy her breasts. She murmured, "It's so hard to imagine people wanting to hurt us for this. This doesn't happen for most people. I don't think you understand that." She held my chin and pulled my head up so she could give me a playful smack on the lips. She searched my eyes and my face for a moment. "I hope no one ever hurts you. But it's going to be very, very hard to find a woman who understands someone like you."

I asked her what she meant by that, but she didn't answer. Instead, she brushed it off and played with my pubic fuzz. "You have such a nice shape," she mused. "I hope you don't grow too much hair on yourself. You're going to have such a nice cock, just the right size, not to round, and not too long. Just big enough to make a girl feel nice and filled. Look, you're already four inches, maybe five. You're going to have a beautiful cock. You have a beautiful cock now. And it's so stiff. Look how stiff he is, I can hardly push down on it. Such a strong cock." She uncoupled from me and scooted down to suck me again. Holding my shaft and licking my tip she said contentedly, "Mmm, so suckable."

After wetting me she started pumping again, holding me very loosely so her hands could slide along my shaft and brush my tip in a way she knew felt good and would keep me hard. She grinned and said, "It's good, huh? Yeah? It's good, I can tell you like it. I want to make it so good for you."

It didn't take long for her to propel me to a pleasurable state again. I have to admit, orgasm or no, I have never been so physically pleased by a woman's hands as I was by the way Martha Jane had learned to please. It wasn't long before my rock hard young cock seemed to develop a life of its own. My legs grew stiff and I can verify that toes really do curl, for I could look down past Martha Jane and see them doing so before my very eyes. Another one of those strange waves of pure pleasure shot into my cock and I seemed to melt under it. After several seconds of this tension, I felt fluid leak to my tip. Martha Jane stopped and looked up at me.

"Honey, did you cum?"

I struggled to say, "Uh, I don't know. It... sure felt good for a minute."

She studied me. Sure enough, I had leaked again. I would not have called it an orgasm, at least not a proper adult orgasm, but she had brought me great pleasure, both physical and emotional. I felt tense and a little tired, but happy.

She rose to stroke my face. "Did I hurt you, hon? I didn't hurt it, did I?"

I shook my head no. I found it to difficult to speak, my mouth was so dry. "No, but it... it just felt so good."

She hugged me. "Oh you almost came. Almost! That's so nice!"

I felt very good and deliciously wicked anyway, which was enough for me at the time. I let her hug me for a moment. She said, "It'll happen for you someday. It will."

"And we'll cum together."

"Yes. We will." She gazed at me for a long moment, her hand caressing and then holding my cheek. "I wish you could feel the pleasure you give me. I do wish that for you." And again, she looked at me. And again, all of a sudden, the unexpected asserted itself. And this, it was Martha Jane who changed the course of the relationship.

As she gazed at me she seemed suddenly sad, and then troubled.

I asked, "What's the matter?"

She said, "Nothing. Nothing, hon." She let her hand slip from my cheek and she sat back on her heels with that troubled look on her face. "If only I could make you feel that good..."

Her voice trailed off, and she suddenly straightened on the bed and lay back on her pillow and whispered, "Come here."

I leaned toward her and she parted her legs and said, "Here. Lick me."

There was no way I'd refuse. I lay between her legs and made a long trail of kisses along her legs. I knew she liked small, nipping licks along the inside of her thighs, and I did that as she stroked my hair and whispered, "That's nice, hon."

Reaching her center, I started with a long lick along her slit, and she whispered, "Yes." And all the time one hand was stroking my hair, and as I licked she parted her legs wider and I found her clit and gave it a little suck, and she whispered, "Ahh. Good." For a long moment I licked her, feeling the heat and moisture build in her. Soon she was giving the small gasps of pleasure that told me my tongue was getting to her.

To my surprise, after she had been breathing excitedly for a few minutes, she stopped stroking my hair and pulled me up by my shoulders, urging me, "C'mere, baby." I rose onto my knees. She watched me with a steady, anxious look.

She whispered, "Come up here," pulling me toward her by one arm. Her breath was shaky, quickening, and there was a new urgency, a queezy tension in her voice. She pulled me forward until I lay on top of her, and she spread her legs for me. I propped myself on my elbows to see what she wanted. She whispered hurriedly, "Lift up a little," and keeping her eyes on mine and biting her lower lip she felt down, between us, and found my dick. Then I felt a unique, wet tickle around my glans, the first time my cock had felt the slithery touch of the thin petals just inside her pussy, and I realized she was rubbing my cock in her slit, wetting me.

She saw the surprise in my face and grinned, her breath still shaky. "Feel that?"

"Yeah. It's Wet. Tickly."

She fumbled with my cock for a few more seconds. With an audible tremble in her voice she whispered, "Move up a little." I moved my hips upward, my tummy shifting higher on hers. Then I felt my dick enter her.